


Tic

by absolutelyCancerous (cal1brations)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Epilepsy, Gen, Headcanon, Seizures, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:31:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cal1brations/pseuds/absolutelyCancerous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iceland has it rough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tic

**Author's Note:**

> an Iceland-centric studyfic about if earthquakes/seismic activity developed as seizures in Nations (specifically using the Eyjafjallajökull 2010 fiasco as the example.) I’m aware epilepsy and seizures in general aren’t as scattered in pattern/type as I wrote Iceland’s here, but I wanted to make it more specific as to the fact he’s a Nation and they result from physical activity from Earth, not from a physical disorder of sorts within his person.

Iceland has it rough.

Of course, Iceland himself doesn’t say this-- he might complain sometimes (and pout), but he doesn’t have a right to complain about his land, his existence. He’s not nearly as old as some of the other nations, especially his brothers, so he doesn’t see it fit to whine and bitch about it.

But his “brothers” (for lack of a better term) do.

It’s usually Denmark, or Norway, but they all have said it, and do continue to say it, every time _it_ happens. Specifically after the episodes happen, which Iceland tries to brush off as best he can, as best as any adult should, but there’s always the rest of them there to coddle him, like he can’t handle the cards he’s been dealt.

He just happens to have a lot of earthquakes. So what?

America has earthquakes, all along his western coast-- and America is practically a million times bigger than Iceland! He’s obviously familiar with the feeling, even if they’re not as near-constant as Iceland’s.

With the little ones, nothing particularly happens. It’s only up until about a 2.5 where Iceland goes symptomless (but the sizes sometimes have no hand in what symptom he portrays), but anything after that can be a wild card for him. They’re random, and it’s not like he can predict when something’s going to happen, so he holds his chin up and deals with it, because that’s what adults do, and Iceland doesn’t need to be babied.

But, sometimes they happen at the most inconvenient of times (A.K.A, in-meeting.) He’s lucky when it’s just an Absence seizure in result, when everything goes dark and the seconds are lost, but only a few. Those practically go unnoticed, unless he’s in the middle of something, like speaking or moving about a lot, because he freezes up and stares off into absolutely nothing, lost; Norway tells him it’s quite the sight.

But those are the easy ones. Absences are simple to work around-- a few lost seconds are nothing in the grand scheme of things. It’s the bigger ones that get to him, quakes that rake up higher than a 3 or a 4, that really get him in a mess.

He’s only had a couple Atonic seizures; they’re not that common because quakes are a result of tension, and Atonic seizures involve the loss of muscle tone. Since they’re not common, he doesn’t worry about them much, because they’re not that big a deal to him, either.

The worst are the Grand-Mal.

Though he won’t admit it, but those ones, they _scare_ Iceland. They’re pretty rare, because they don’t usually hit him unless it’s around a five, but sometimes it’s less; again, it’s all up to chance. But Grand-Mal seizures are the one’s that leave him shaken (no pun intended) for much longer than any of the other kinds-- he’d rather experience Tonic seizures and Clonic seizures on their own, not _together_.

The worst of them in recent years was Eyjafjallajökull. (Try saying that one three times fast.)

That incident in particular is why Iceland personally thinks the seizures have nothing to do with how high the earthquakes rate on the Richter scale, because while it was an eruption, it wasn’t made of many substantially large quakes, more like many small ones. But, either way.

For the few weeks before, there was many small ailments. Tonic seizures, Myoclonic, a couple Clonic as well. Perhaps just a pick-up in activity-- it happens now and again.

But Iceland’s in the middle of doing dishes that evening when he feels the tell-tale tingle that zips up his arms, the uneasy feeling in his gut that means he should probably lie down somewhere _immediately_ because there’s nothing he can do to escape a seizure when it comes on, which his body is telling him is going to be pretty damn soon.

Instead of following his feeling of incessant need to lie down, he pushes on. If it’s an Absence seizure, it’ll only be a few seconds, and the worst that will happen is he’ll drop the dish he’s currently washing. Easy. Nothing to worry about.

But then his face tingles, his left temple throbs, his back tenses up and Iceland feels the involuntary choke of “ _g-nuh_!” leave his tense throat as the shaking begins, and the world goes totally black.

Grand-Mal seizures terrify him, that’s for certain.

\---

Iceland wakes up and it’s dark outside.

He feels extremely thirsty, and licks his lips. There’s water running, he can hear it, but it seems like a world of effort to sit up and see if the sink really is still on. He is also sore as hell, and his body feels like lead, heavy and thick.

Iceland lies on the floor for a long time, then. Tries to think of how long he’s been out, but his thoughts get interrupted by another tingling, which almost has him hyperventilating, thinking another Grand-Mal is about to come on--

But then he hears the delicate chimes, and realizes that the tingling is actually his cell phone, vibrating away in his pocket, chirruping for his attention. It takes a few seconds to get his fingers to remember how to grip properly, but he manages to tug it out of his pocket, squinting at the screen.

Figures it’d be Norway. The guy has, like, a sixth sense when it comes to these things (the freak, Iceland thinks, a little bit affectionate.)

He slides the lock over the screen, slapping the phone to his ear. “--llo?” He clears his throat and swallows, to get something in his dry throat. “Hello?”

“How bad was it?”

Iceland frowns. Earthquakes don’t usually make it into the news, and certainly not European or International news. The fact Norway knows without having been there to see Iceland flopping on the floor like a fish out of water is a hint that maybe this wasn’t an out-of-the-blue occurrence; maybe something big really _did_ happen.

“Brother?”

Iceland realizes he’s been quiet for a long time, and puts a hand over his eyes. “ _Já_ ,” he mumbles. “Sorry. I’m-- uh, still on the floor.”

There’s a noise that sounds like Norway covering the mic of his phone, and some talking before the phone seems to be moved, and Denmark is in his ear.

“We’re all watchin’ the news, lil’ bro,” he says, and Iceland is very, very amazed that he doesn’t have to hold the phone away from his face, because Denmark is specifically talking quieter.

But, that’s not information he wants to hear. He sits up, very slowly, sighing a little in the effort. “Why? What’s on the news, I mean.”

There’s another mumble Iceland doesn’t catch before Norway is speaking again.

“ _Eyjafjallajökull_ started to erupt--”

Denmark is audible from the background with a loud, “Wait, he didn’t _know_?” and Iceland hears a smack and a yelp from the Dane before Norway is speaking in his ear once more.

“It’s been about an hour and a half since it started. You really didn’t know?”

“ _No_ ,” Iceland grits out, a little annoyed; eruptions makes his temper flare, just a little. They also make him feel hot all over, which is beginning to take effect on him. He plucks at his shirt, listening to the background of the TV from Norway’s end of the phone, but he can’t make out anything in particular, it’s too far from the phone to be clear.

“Go to bed,” Norway suggests. “In case another episode happens. Get some sleep.”

Iceland rolls his eyes. He does not need to be told when he should go to bed-- he doesn’t need Norway babying him, and he says this, very snippy, but agrees, for his own sake.

He’s about to hang up before Norway says a quick, “Wait.”  So he waits, and is silent as he hears the phone shift a little from the other side of the line.

“Feel better, Ice!” Denmark calls out; the phone is on speaker, he can tell with how hollow Denmark’s voice sounds. “We’ll call tomorrow to see how it’s goin’ over there.”

“Get some rest,” Norway adds again, and Iceland can’t help but smile, just a tiny bit. He wishes they were here, not over there, but he often wishes that, so it’s not news.

Instead, he says a simple goodbye and hangs up. He struggles to his heavy-feeling feet and drinks a glass of water, then another. Finds he’s still very much exhausted, and shuffles off to bed without bothering to ready himself for sleep in the slightest, holding the second of the two pillows on his bed close to his chest, and tells himself he isn’t scared.

\---

Iceland wakes up and Denmark is calling.

Sleepily, he answers the phone in Icelandic, then Danish, then decides he doesn’t want to hear Denmark slur all his excited words together and changes to English, which makes Denmark laugh a little; it’s sometimes nice to hear Denmark laugh, it lulls in a fake calm that relaxes Iceland, just a little.

“How’re ya holdin’ up there, Ice?”

“Very tired. Hot.”

Denmark probably smiles as he snorts at that. “Figured. You checkin’ the news?”

“You woke me up.”

He clicks his tongue and Iceland rolls his eyes. Denmark’s certainly one to talk, being the only one of the five of them able to sleep in past noon and still be exhausted. But, granted, Denmark is playing Mother Hen (since Norway hasn’t called him up yet, how strange) for the moment, so Iceland will give him the satisfaction of being the wise parental unit. For the moment.

“You-- uh, did you…?”

It’s not hard to guess what he’s asking, and Iceland sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Last night’s was pretty big, though.” He pauses, and sighs louder. “I don’t know.”

Denmark sighs, too; maybe that’s where Iceland has gotten the habit from? Nonetheless, Iceland can imagine Denmark chewing on his nails (he can sort of hear the little ‘ _tk tk_ ’ of him biting them down to the quick) as he thinks of what to say, probably watching the news, probably a little hungover.

“Are you still with Norway?” Iceland asks, figuring Norway might have ripped the phone from Denmark upon knowing who he was speaking to.

“Nah,” Denmark answers easily. “I’ve got policy stuff to work on this week, so I headed back home. He call you this morning?”

“You’re the first.”

Denmark laughs. “Hope you’re up for lots of talkin’ today, then. Fin’s gonna _freak out_ all over you, y’know.”

Iceland makes a loud, long sigh, throwing his arm over his eyes, because he is not in the mood for discussing much of anything today. “Don’t remind me; it’s not that big a deal, you know. You guys all freak out over something totally not worth worrying about.”

“We _care_ , Ice. Y’can’t make us not care about ‘cha.”

Iceland sighs again and mumbles out a word of thanks, which makes Denmark’s smugness almost audible, even though he doesn’t really say anything for a moment. Eventually, though, he decides he best be extending the news to Norway that Iceland is going to live to see another day, and Iceland thanks him again for shortening the line of communication he’ll have to go about following up; Finland is already calling on the other line, and he tries to mentally prepare himself for what may be a very, very long phone call.

“Hang in there, lil’ bro,” Denmark bids, and Iceland smiles a little.

“I’ll try. Keep Norway at bay and I’ll definitely owe you one.”

“I’ll do my best. Rest up, Ice.”

Denmark hangs up then, and Iceland immediately continues to Finland’s waiting call, cringing as he’s greeted with a gasp of “ _Oh_ , you’re alright! We were _so_ worried about you, Ice!”

\---

Thus is the pattern for a long while.

Eyjafjallajökull is in a constant state of eruption for about a month, give or take a few weeks. Eruptions bring a slew of other symptoms Iceland doesn’t suffer too regularly-- hot flashes and an explosive temper are among the worst of it.

But the activity with the ground makes the seizures act up, go figure. Iceland normally doesn’t suffer very many on a regular basis, but with so much going on (maybe it’s partially stress that adds to it), he’s dropping to the floor a little more often than he’d like to. They’re bigger seizures, not so much Absence seizures as they are Tonic or Clonic, or the dreaded Grand-Mal.

Stress definitely has something to do with it all, because Iceland currently finds himself dealing with a _ton_ of it-- much more than the amount he normally has to cope with (next to none.)

The eruption is affecting practically all of Northern and Central Europe. Not so much the actual, physical eruption, but the ash Eyjafjallajökull produces. Unbelievable amounts of ash, so much so that air travel as an entirety basically stops.

Iceland gets a lot of calls about this, but it’s actually Denmark who suggests they hold an emergency meeting via Skype; no one’s getting into Iceland or coming out, anyway, and since no one can really seem to travel as a whole to _anywhere_ , it seems a lot more productive.

So there Iceland is, sitting at his dining table with his laptop, trying not to sigh too much as he has the utmost _pleasure_ of watching the majority of Europe bicker and snap at one another, all while scolding Iceland for letting such a thing happen. Of _course_ , he thinks bitterly, why didn’t he merely _tell_ the volcano to stop _existing_?

Everyone seems to have a bit of a cough, for which Iceland is technically responsible for. It’s the ash that’s putting a damper on a good portion of Europe, leaving particularly England, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark with a lovely bout of hacking coughs that make Iceland think of choking on cinnamon (not that’s he’s familiar with that… sort of.)

Denmark’s hacking and yaking away, though, talking about how this is totally not that big a deal-- _way_ worse stuff has happened in Europe before, and a little ash is hardly anything! So they can’t do much air traveling--

There’s an uproar, and Iceland puts his face in his hands with a loud sigh, irritated and beyond embarrassed that Denmark is doing most of the fighting for him (but thank God it’s not Norway, at least.) England manages to get him quiet for a moment before he addresses Iceland, asking what he plans to do about all this.

Iceland shakes his head. “There’s nothing to do but let it work itself out,” he says, and he’s kind of proud of how adult he sounds, and the fact his English is much, much better than Denmark’s. “It’s _nature_.”

England kind of huffs, but he nods, so Iceland guesses he’s been understood. He looks at the other faces dotting around, several European nations that have seemed to stop arguing to listen to Iceland. But, he has no more to say, and he sighs.

“Is that everything here? I can tell everyone was expecting more--”

“You’re doing wonderful, brother dear. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Iceland cringes, and tries very hard to ignore the chuckles in the background. He’s going to _murder_ Norway the next time they visit-- which, is hopefully soon, once this ash is cleared enough for travel.

Denmark seems to sense the finality Iceland didn’t have the chance to announce, due to embarrassment via Norway. “How’s about we wrap this sucker up? We’ve got places to g-- oh, haha! Guess not that, huh?” He laughs a little more, though England and Germany seem a little more perturbed than anything at his jocular nature.

The call is ended with few parting words, and though Norway tries to message Iceland a little afterwards, the drop-off of stress and tense emotion sends Iceland into a seizing fit very soon after, before he can tell Norway to go pull something old over himself.

Iceland doesn’t answer until hours later, when he wakes up from a seizure-induced nap on his dining room table, wiping drool from his face in a daze. He ends up having to answer _all_ of the other Nordics, who’ve worried themselves into a collective tizzy over his silence, and is convinced to hold another conference call with the four of them, putting his face in his arms as they converse.

It’s comforting to listen to everyone, though. Iceland dozes off again, a little more peacefully this time, to the lull of familiar conversation.

\---

When it’s over-- or, more like, when travel warnings are lifted and the world seems to spin right on its axis again-- Iceland goes back to normal as well, and fairly easily. He still has the remains of a nasty cough that linger a few weeks afterwards, but the bouts of seizures lessen in startling numbers. During the peak of the eruption, he was near a few seizures a _day_ , but afterwards, he’s back to maybe one or two a week, never more than four in a month, though.

Denmark and Norway come to visit him first (Sweden and Finland don’t come at the same time as Denmark and Norway, which Iceland thinks is understandable) after everything’s squared away. Denmark gives him the tightest hug he’s had in a long while, and even Norway gives him a hug, very meaningful in his grip around his brother.

“You guys just worry over _nothing_ ,” Iceland sighs with a dramatic roll of his eyes, but Denmark laughs, patting his back almost a little too hard.

“We’re _family_!” He says brightly, grinning sincerely. “We’re always gonna worry about ‘cha, Ice. From yer natural disaster stuff to what kind ‘a crap you’re eatin’. S’what families do for each other.”

Norway nods in silent agreement, surprisingly, and Iceland suddenly feels so small again, almost worried that he’s come off as stand-offish; he’s not trying to shove them away, so much as he just… wants them not to be embarrassing brothers to him, sort of.

But Denmark and Norway make good company, and Iceland feels himself settling back to normal after a very hectic few months. His coughing even begins to satiate, and Iceland falls back into his normal routines. Of course, he ends up having Finland and Sweden over soon after, has to convince them, too, that yes, he’s really fine, no, he doesn’t need anything.

When it’s all said and done, Iceland thinks to himself one night, doing dishes and feeling so grateful that the horrifying tingling he’d been getting almost _used_ to isn’t plaguing him as it did those couple months ago in this very spot, Iceland _knows_ he doesn’t have it bad. His brothers don’t seem to agree, but, then again, Sweden doesn’t like Coca-Cola, so Iceland doesn’t need that kind of negativity plaguing him. Not that Coca-Cola and seizures are the same thing, but, it’s the principle of the thing, really.

Nonetheless, Iceland takes it in stride, humming pleasantly to himself.


End file.
